Tempting Fate
by Finley's Hope
Summary: Eventual HPDM Have you ever felt that you were controlled by fate? Felt that there was some unseen force in the world driving your actions? Or your dreams? AU Reincarn.
1. Chapter 1

(Reincarnation fic) Have you ever felt that you were controlled by fate? Felt that there was some unseen force in the world driving your actions? Or your dreams? Harry Potter had been plagued by dreams his entire life. Up until recently, he had never found the courage to face them. Once he does, it may lead to the adventure and a discovery of a lifetime.

Disclaimer: I do not own any Harry Potter or any of its characters. I merely use them to fulfill my creative desires.

Tempting Fate

It was happening again. He felt the sick electric pull of whatever light was flying at him. He tried to dodge it, and successfully managed to swivel out of the way as the red lightning bolt flew past him. The sweat on his brow began dripping into his eyes as they narrowed at the source of his fear. No, not fear. He was feeling a challenge. He felt his mouth turn into a smirk, which seemed so unfamiliar to him. He opened his mouth to call out to the darkness ahead of him, but another streak of light flew at him. He ducked past the yellow light and then rolled on his shoulder to the right. He held out what appeared to be a twig in his hand as he crouched in the dirt. Harry stared at the twig for a moment, questioning what to do with it. It seemed he stared for a moment too long as a final stream of light shot out and struck him in the arm. He fell onto his face and breathed in the scent of the earth as his body seemed to rock with shock. Harry wasn't hurt badly, but he felt numb, as he always did. He closed his eyes and felt his sweat dripping off of his head as he waited. He heard it then. He heard the laughter. It was harsh and mocking, yet warm at the same time. A smile played on Harry's lips. How he loved that laughter. It seemed so familiar. He saw a pale hand reach out to him before he sighed.

He shot up in his bed, sweating as if he had just run a mile. Harry brushed his damp, clammy hair back from his eyes and rubbed the middle of his forehead—a habit he seemed to have picked up when he was young. It felt soothing and reassuring. He sighed and threw his head at his palms. _What the _hell _is up with these dreams?_ Harry threw back the sheets on his bed with the feeling that his room was unfamiliar. He had lived here for two years now, yet every time he woke up from his bizarre dreams, he had a sense that he should be somewhere else. He stared at his walls for a moment. He could close his eyes and almost see a dark room with curtains drawn around his bed. He shook the idea out of his head and opened his eyes once more. He fumbled on his nightstand for his glasses before getting the nerve to place his bare feet on the cold wooden floor.

"Harry, are you alright?" a voice piped up from his doorway. He smiled sheepishly as he turned to look at his roommate, Hermione. She always seemed to have a sixth sense about him. She sensed when he was distressed or hurt. She eyed him over and took another step into his room. "You were dreaming again, weren't you?" she asked simply. He nodded and sniffed the air, just noticing the smell. She opened her mouth to question him about it, but he cut her off, "Breakfast ready?" She sighed, knowing how he hated to talk about his strange dreams. "Just about," she said shortly. "Ron is just finishing up some toast."

Ron was his other roommate, and as it turns out, Hermione's boyfriend of 5 years. They had been living together in this two bedroom apartment before Harry had called them about their ad in the paper for a roommate. The rent had been getting a little steep and they needed more bodies to fill the apartment. They had all instantly hit it off. It was almost strange how well they got along. They welcomed him in, and their habits had taken a bit for Harry to get used to. Hermione was studying to be a lawyer, and spent most of her time at the library or in the small study Ron had set up for her in the apartment. She was one of the kindest people Harry had met. She was intelligent and strong. But her relationship with Ron was a mystery. Ron was a very easy going guy. He had flaming red hair and freckles, which Harry found a bit alarming at first. His family originated from Britain, so he also had a bit of an accent. Ron played chess at the local tournaments on weekends and worked at the local pub on weekdays. They were an interesting pair. Hermione seemed to nag Ron to death, and it would occasionally lead to an explosive argument, but Harry could tell they loved each other nonetheless.

He finally moved to get out of bed and follow Hermione into the kitchen. She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder as they rounded the corner. Hermione took a seat at the table and Ron turned away from the stove to say good morning. "Oi, mate! It's almost ready."

Harry smiled at his best friend. He looked to the table and then had a second thought, "I'm going to take a shower first. I'll be back in a few." Ron and Hermione nodded knowingly as Harry padded away into their bathroom.

"He looks terrible," Ron started. Hermione stared after Harry thoughtfully. She began thinking of ways to help him. She couldn't take him waking up in a cold sweat with those sunken eyes anymore. He looked exhausted. He needed a change of scenery. He said that his dreams always took place in one of three places: at night in a forest, in a castle, or a house he had never recognized, but felt at home in. Hermione thought for a moment more before turning to Ron. "He needs to get out of here. He said his dreams have only gotten worse since he moved here," she brushed back a stray strand of her unruly brown hair.

"My folks have been bugging me to come home and visit for quite some time," Ron started. "Why don't we all go and take a vacation. Your classes will be over in a week and we can fly over to see my mum and dad." Ron began speaking faster, getting excited. "Ginny will be thrilled, and I'm sure mum will whip up some of her famous dinners." Hermione stared at Ron for a moment. "Why didn't we think of that before?" She beamed over at her boyfriend. "That'd be wonderful! There are also plenty of castles over there. They may be in ruins, but Harry can go sightseeing and finally see that the dreams are just dreams." She chewed on her lower lip for a moment as she considered what she was saying. He'd had the same dreams since he was young. He's always seen the same things. He's always prayed for a dreamless sleep. What if they weren't just dreams? What if it meant something more? She shook her head. She couldn't keep questioning it all. She had to be the voice of reason here. She would take Harry sightseeing and prove that he couldn't have ever visited these places. He will finally be able to sleep in peace and move on with his life.

Ron also fell into thoughts about Harry. His mum had been a bit superstitious while he was growing up. She always had these crazy thoughts about past lives and everything unfolding as it should. Seeing Harry these past few weeks made him think about her words from long ago. Maybe Harry remembered a past life. Maybe Harry had a destiny that only the universe understands. He glanced over to Hermione. Maybe he lost someone he loved. He smiled at her as she chewed on her bottom lip. _She must be really worried about him._Their minds were made. Whether Harry wanted to understand his dreams or not, a vacation was certainly well overdue.

Harry let the hot water beat down over his back. He turned around and felt it sizzle over his face and run down his body. His thoughts always came easier while he was in the shower. He needed to clear his head. Why won't the dreams go away? They've gotten worse now that his 23rd birthday was approaching, he thought. He had never thought much of birthdays. His parents had made a fuss about it when he was younger, but they had passed away in a car crash on his 5th birthday. He missed them. He wished he had parents to talk to now. What was he supposed to do? Why did they have to be the ones to die? He realized the turn of his thoughts and ran a shaky hand through his soaked hair. _Can't blame them. They'd be here if they could. It wasn't like it was their choice_.

Harry opened his eyes. Maybe it was time he started making his own choices. He needed to stop letting his dreams run his life. It was time he took control. He wasn't sure how yet, but he had set his will in a steely resolve. He would get to the bottom of this. Maybe he would see a therapist if he had to. He would find peace and follow his heart, rather than running from his crazy dreams for once.

Harry finished rinsing the last of the soap off of his body and stepped out of the shower. He wrapped his favorite towel around himself. It was off-white and always felt like silk on his skin. It had also always reminded him of the way that the one pale hand had always felt in his own from his dreams. He couldn't shake the feeling that it was more significant than he wanted to believe. He wrapped the towel around his waist and made his way back to his room, stopping when he got to the kitchen. He didn't know how long he had been in the shower. Hopefully he still had time to sit with his roommates and have breakfast.

As he stepped in the kitchen, Ron and Hermione both had significant looks on their faces. They were up to something. Ron stepped forward and clapped a hand on Harry's bare back. "Pack your bags, mate. I think it's time for a vacation." Harry stared at the both of them for a moment before smiling and shaking his head. They always seemed to know what was best for him.

A/N: This story is a bit reminiscent of Kate Brallier's novel _The Boundless Deep_. Once I finished writing the first chapter, I realized it seemed slightly familiar. The original idea may have spawned from my reading of that book months ago, but it won't follow that storyline necessarily. I hope you enjoy, and don't forget to review.


	2. Chapter 2

Tempting Fate

Harry resisted sleep. The flight that Hermione had booked for the three of them had been set to depart at 3 AM. It seemed like such an absurd time to make a flight from the states to London, but she seemed to have her reasons. The flight was about 10 hours to get to London. They should arrive at about 1 PM if all went according to plan. The flight was a straight shot without any layover. Harry did not get a chance to sleep and now had his friends around him to comfort him in the airport terminal. Well, sort of.

"You're sure you have everything?" Hermione had been going over itineraries and luggage checks for hours now. Harry just rolled his eyes tiredly. "Hermione, I'm sure. We've checked our luggage in already. It won't even matter now." She fidgeted a bit nervously and looked down to her shoes. She never had loved flying very much. She preferred trains and cars. They were safer to her and easier to control. She looked up at Harry, feeling uncomfortable. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. Harry just nodded and patted her back reassuringly. At least she kept him distracted, even if she hadn't meant to.

Ron strolled up carrying two coffees and a hot tea for Harry. He handed the cup with whipped cream on top of it to Hermione. She accepted the cup and gave him a weak smile in return. Ron sat between the two of them and slipped his free arm around Hermione's waist. As Ron began soothing her, Harry thoughtfully sipped at his tea. He had so many conflicting feelings about this trip. He wanted to meet Ron's family, of course. He had heard so many amazing things about them. Ron's father was a researcher and inventor. His mother was a stay at home parent. Harry felt that was understandable with seven children. Someone had to be at home to reign over their parades. Ron had described his siblings, but Harry figured this was a family he would need to meet to fully understand—if it was possible to understand them at all, of course. Harry also felt that he was doing something to influence his dreams by making the decision to visit Ron's family. They had always been intense, but recently, they had also become more vivid and alive. He had noticed this once he had set his mind to make this trip. That had to be a sign. Did he even want to find out what they meant? They had been a part of him as long as he could remember. He wondered if his parents ever had dreams like this. He wondered if anyone ever had dreams like this.

Ron glanced at his watch and gave Hermione a final squeeze before standing. "We should be boarding soon." Harry and Hermione followed suit and stood. The announcer's voice sounded overhead hailing passengers to gate C-42. Hermione smoothed out her clothes and gathered her few things in her carry-on bag. Ron took her hand and they all made their way onto the plane. They had been able to get seats together. Ron had called the window seat, so naturally, Hermione took the middle seat. Harry was left to sit in the aisle seat. Hermione began mumbling reassurances to herself as Ron gazed out the window, captivated. Harry buckled up and began flipping through one of the dull magazines provided on the backs of the seats. He suddenly felt very tired. He stared at the words on the page without seeing and settled into his seat further. He heard the captain announcing their destination and other things that he began to tune out. The flight attendants walked through the aisles, making sure everyone was situated. Harry's eyes began to droop slowly. The plane began to move in preparation for takeoff. Now his eyes felt like they had weights attached to the lids. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the firm headrest on the seat.

He felt horror. He felt a deep-seeded horror. He vaguely thought that this was different than his other dreams. He felt as if something had gone terribly wrong. _He_ had done something terribly wrong. It wasn't meant to be like this. This was never supposed to happen. He looked down at his hands, covered in blood. He noticed that his hands didn't look quite right. Had he done this? Was this his blood? Was it someone else's? His head shot up to stare into the darkness, seeking answers. He felt cold. It was raining, he noticed. His tears burned down his face to mix with the stinging chill of the rain. The blood began to drip off of his palms and into the puddle surrounding his feet. He felt that he deserved this. This was his punishment. He lifted his head to stare into the blackened sky, letting rain beat down on his opened eyes. He wouldn't close them. He deserved every ounce of burning pain that nature could bestow upon him. He finally slumped down and his hands slapped the ground. His shoulders sagged. He began begging whatever greater forces that were of this world to forgive him. He hadn't meant for it to go this wrong. He choked back a sob as his body shook. This was his fault.

"Harry!" He felt his body shaking still. "Harry James Potter, wake up!"

He blearily blinked his eyes, adjusting his glasses. They must have slipped while he was sleeping. Hermione stared into his eyes, searching, and concerned. He glanced around to see most of the people in the cabin staring at him. He looked back to Ron and Hermione. "You were shouting. You've never done that before," Ron whispered weakly, as confused as everyone else. A flight attendant shuffled up to them. "Would you like me to get you anything? A glass of water, perhaps?" Hermione nodded to the woman. Harry just stared down at his sweating, clammy hands. "It was different this time," he whispered. Ron and Hermione exchanged a sad glance before leaning closer so no one could overhear. "I felt terrible. I felt as if I had done something terrible."

Hermione grasped his hand in her own, urging him to go on. "There was blood.. and there was so much pain in my chest. I have never felt like I had been so alone in my life." Hermione shook her head, lowering her eyes. Maybe this trip had been a mistake. "I reckon you might be getting closer to figuring things out, mate." Harry and Hermione stared at Ron. "Why would you say that?" Harry asked and then took a sip of the water that the attendant brought back for him. His hands were still shaking. Ron set his mouth, looking for the right words. "Well, the way I see it, if you are having different dreams then you must be on to something. The dream is different. Maybe it is a clue or… or just something new that you have discovered, even if the dream was disturbing." Hermione considered this and nodded. "Ron's right. New dreams are good dreams. We could be on to something," she added.

Harry ran his hands through his hair and then took another swig of the water, his nerves settling. He didn't feel like this was anything to be happy about. He could have killed someone. He didn't remember ever hurting anyone. Why would he dream about blood? Why had he felt so guilty and alone? He could only hope that being surrounded by the many Weasleys would suffice as a distraction. It should take his mind off of the crazy dreams and give him a firm hold on reality for once. He sighed. He could only keep hoping for the best at this point. Maybe Ron and Hermione were right. He did feel like this trip was a bit on the whimsical side. His dreams justified it. His dreams made him feel like he was drowning. But making this trip allowed him to feel in control. He ignored all practicality and made his move. He now just had to follow through.

Harry's thoughts then took another turn. How was he going to afford staying over with the Weasleys for an entire summer? He had to think about getting a job. His checking account wasn't exactly overflowing, at the moment. He made a decent living at home, but he was no millionaire. Harry was best with physical labor. He could find something to occupy his time, and his hands, for the summer. Thoughts of staying in an unknown house loomed over him. He had been assured that Ron's mother would be nothing but welcoming, but one could never be sure. He was worried. They were already halfway there. Harry had never been overseas before. He started feeling a bit apprehensive. What if he found something over there to prove that his dreams were real? While he could take comfort in the fact that he was not crazy, he wouldn't exactly feel any better. Visions of foreign landscapes and hands and laughter and blood had been enough to drive him mad, but to prove that it was all real would be another story.

They finally arrived at their destination and went to look for Ron's father. He had promised to pick them up from the airport to be sure that they made it over safe and sound. He was not difficult to spot, Harry found. Throughout the throngs of people hustling through the airport, Ron seemed to beeline for one exit in particular. Hermione and Harry scurried after him, trying to keep up. Harry then spotted the tuft of flaming red hair up ahead. He couldn't help the smile that found its way onto his lips. _Just like Ron's _he thought fondly. They made their way over just in time to see Ron take his father into a fierce hug. Harry and Hermione watched patiently as they exchanged hello's and I miss you's. Ron turned from his father to introduce the two of them—his girlfriend and his best mate. Ron's father took them both into a warm hug. "Welcome! Welcome! I am so happy to meet you both. Ron has mentioned quite a bit about the two of you in his letters. Oh, Molly will be thrilled." He turned to Hermione. "And Ginny will be glad to have some female companionship, for once!" His laughter rolled out and Ron shook his head.

They were off now. Ron and his father were busily chatting in the front seats, catching up. There was only so much you could say in letters, and international phone calls had been a bit expensive. Hermione watched him, smiling, from the back seat with Harry. Harry took the chance to stare out the window, taking in all of the scenery. He didn't know what he was hoping for, but he held on to the hope he felt. He suddenly saw a village welcoming sign that looked familiar. He wasn't sure if the name meant something or just the general shape of the sign was familiar, but he was suddenly starry eyed and felt far away. He heard a sharp intake of breath somewhere nearby in the dark room that his visions had taken him. He felt a strong, agile hand in his own… and then it was over. As swiftly as it came, the vision was gone in the same time. It left a lingering desire in its wake. He choked back a cry of discomfort as a wave of arousal took him over. He had fooled around with women in the past, experimenting. He even had a girlfriend for a short time, but he never felt anything like this. He ached with need. He oozed sexual desire. He began to sweat and his hands began to twitch.

"Are you all right?" Hermione moved in closer. Harry nodded shakily. This was definitely starting to feel real. He was having so many feelings. They all seemed so foreign, yet so familiar. He was also starting to feel as if he had made the right choice by coming here. His feelings were intensified. The trip had already been bringing on new feelings. He was actually getting excited to see what this trip may bring.

He took a few deep, calming breaths as the car ride continued on. He kept his eyes peeled for something else that could be familiar, but nothing came. He didn't get that out of body feeling for the rest of the trip. He didn't know if it was because he was on the lookout or if it was because there really wasn't anything to see. Thinking about something too hard could have lead to not seeing anything at all. They finally arrived at Ron's childhood home. There was a mass of red-headed people standing outside, waiting for their arrival.

Without really waiting for the car to stop, Ron swung the door open and bolted over. "Mum! Oh, and Ginny, Fred, George!" They all took him up into a hug. "Hey, Percy!" Ron let the initial joy settle a bit as Harry and Hermione tentatively approached with their bags in tow. The tallest Weasley ruffled Ron's hair a bit. Ron smiled and slapped his hand away. Harry took the sight before him in. All of these red heads..all with matching smiles, welcoming them in. Harry felt a twinge of jealousy. _So, this was what it was like to have a family_. He smiled and waved, "Hello." Ron stepped out and began pointing at all of his family members. "This is my mum," he introduced, and she waved excitedly. "So lovely you could join us, dears."

"And this is Fred and George, the twins," he continued and they nodded and shook their hands, smiling. "This here is Percy, and this is Ginny, and Bill.." Ron trailed off a bit, searching, as Percy, Ginny, and Bill made their way over to greet Harry and Hermione. "Where's Charlie?"

Ron's mother went to give him a hug. "Oh I have missed you. Charlie is in Romania. He had been hired to do some archeological research on ancient creatures. Of course, he readily accepted and shipped off as soon as he could. He always did have a love for the creatures of the world. I reckon if he ever found proof of dragons, he'd never come home." She laughed.

Harry and Hermione were ushered inside and told to make themselves at home. They were shown to their rooms and began to unpack their bags before dinner was served. Mrs. Weasley warned them not to be late, or they would go starving. With eight other mouths to feed, they understood why. Harry began putting his clothes away in the spare bedroom that he was provided. "Dinner's ready!" He heard a stampede of feet from all around. He shook his head. This was going to be an interesting summer indeed.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I do apologize for the delay. This is finals week for me. After this, there will be a free month full of updates (if life permits, of course).

Tempting Fate

Harry and Hermione squeezed into their places at the table. Harry felt overwhelmed by the swinging of arms and mad dash for the food at first. He finally caught up with the frantic rhythm and filled his plate with a variety of foods. There was roast beef and Yorkshire pudding and a shepherd's pie. There was gravy and carrots and horseradish sauce and peas. The aroma from upstairs had him drooling. It was all even more impressive now that it was in front of him. He began to devour his plate along with all of the others. There was plenty of conversation, despite the stuffed faces. Hermione instantly started conversation with Ginny. It looked like they both had been lacking in female companionship. Harry felt a bit of butter splatter onto his face as peas flew by his head to hit George... or maybe Fred in the face.

"Ronald! Quit that. You are never too old for me to turn you over my knee, young man!"

Ron opened his mouth in protest, his face flushing clear up to his ears. "Mum," he groaned, embarrassed. "They started it."

Molly Weasley stared at him with the stony gaze only a mother could muster. "I don't care who started it. We will not be throwing perfectly good food at the table." She raised an eyebrow. "Understood?"

Ron nodded his bowed head and stabbed at a piece of roast menacingly. Harry chuckled a bit as Ron grumbled to himself. Hermione rolled her eyes. Fred and George looked proudly at each other, tapping their knuckles together under the table.

"So, Hermione, how is school going? I hear you are studying to be a lawyer," Percy questioned neutrally from across the table.

Hermione instantly came to life, happy to chat about her ambitions and school with Percy. They seemed to get along well enough. Percy also had high aspirations. He was the valedictorian of his class at school when he graduated. Harry sensed a bit of tension between Ron and Percy. He made a mental note to ask Ron about it later. The energy at the table struck through Harry like a knife. He had glimpses of this life while living with Ron and Hermione. He didn't expect to be so overwhelmed by a family in one sitting. He thought he had been prepared. He was always the one who felt alone. He could almost feel like he belonged. Almost.

Bill was the oldest. Harry remembered Ron mentioning that a while ago. Harry turned to listen as Bill and his father got into a discussion about technological advancement articles from the paper. Harry smiled. Mr. Weasley seemed more intent on the conversation than Bill did, he suspected. Mr. Weasley was a passionate man it seemed. He noticed Harry out of the corner of his eye. He turned his warm smile his way. "Would you be interested in seeing my latest project, Harry? I am tinkering with the bugs right now, but it's coming along quite nicely."

Harry nodded as the red headed man glanced warily over at his wife. He chuckled nervously, "Perhaps after dinner is finished and dishes are done."

Harry turned to Mrs. Weasley and caught the warning look in her eyes. She rolled her eyes as if to say _only my husband_.

The conversations flowed easily through the rest of the meal. Harry found out a few interesting things about the Weasleys. Ron's mother was not to be trifled with. She may appear to be a loving, tender housewife, but her spirit is as fiery as her hair. She had such a strong presence. Harry noticed she not only held her own in a household full of men, but she was their commander. She ran the entire house with just a look. With the look came a promise. Harry soon learned to listen when Molly said something because she always meant it. Harry actually found that comforting. It was nice to know someone who was so honest and open. To know a person with that much dignity and pride in her own work and character was amazing to him.

Mr. Weasley was also impressive. He could chatter on for hours about his theories and aspirations. He had big dreams. He also had a wild imagination. Harry was beginning to understand where Fred and George got their sense of humor. The twins were clever. They could crack a joke about anything. Harry always found that they were appropriate. The twins made everyone laugh and brightened the room, with the exception of a fuming Mrs. Weasley every now and then. Harry was instantly drawn to them.

Bill seemed to be as unique as the rest of the Weasleys. He was a bit lanky, like the rest of them. He was tall, too. Harry wondered how they all got so tall. Neither Molly nor Arthur are very imposing in height. Bill seemed to be the most caring. Harry thought that was a bit ironic. His appearance would not scream "caring older brother" to him. He had on tight jeans and a black v-neck t-shirt. His hair was long and tied back into a low pony tail at the moment. He had a single earring in his left ear. He looked like he was ready to go to any local rock concert. Harry remembered that Ron had also mentioned that he was outstanding in school. He got some of the highest marks in all of his placement tests. He also didn't pursue a specific career at the moment. He was shifting between jobs, trying to find a fit. Harry recalled Ron saying that Bill was working on breaking confidential military coding for the government. It seemed like an exciting enough job in Harry's opinion. He did wonder how he got through security checks looking the way he did.

Percy was a "stuffy git" according to Ron. Harry found him nice enough, but he also couldn't disagree with Ron. He was a bit pompous and didn't really seem to fit in with the family as much as everyone else did. He seemed passionate about his government work. He seemed to be an overachiever with something to prove. Harry didn't understand him, but whenever Percy looked at him over those horn-rimmed glasses, he felt oddly inept.

Harry smiled a bit when he looked at Ginny. They hadn't spoken much, but seeing her interact with Hermione was enough. She was mild-mannered, but she could hold her own. How else could she have lived all these years with 6 brothers? She would flush a bit whenever she caught Harry glancing over at her. Harry could only shake his head. She had long red hair. Her hair was a bit darker than the rest of the Weasleys. She had just as many freckles as the rest of them. She had calm, understanding blue eyes. She made Harry feel comfortable. She was pretty, but Harry couldn't say that she was his type. What was his type anyway? An image of silky white-blonde hair and alabaster skin ran through his mind. Harry repressed a shiver. Maybe he was looking too much into this.

They began to clear out most of the dirty dishes. Hermione offered to help Mrs. Weasley and Ginny was while Harry dried. The rest of the Weasley boys knew when it was time to bolt. Hermione huffed as Ron joined the others in their not-so-sneaky efforts to sneak upstairs. Harry kept busy with drying and took the opportunity to really take in his surroundings.

The kitchen was nice. It wasn't too large or imposing. It was homey. Harry couldn't think of any better word to describe it. It was not only functional, but it had a certain charm only years of use and abuse could bring. There was a massive black mark on one of the counters next to the gas stove. Harry guessed a fire was started that day. The appliances were old. The stove had to be about 10 years old, at least. It was very clean, but there are some things bleach and Lysol can't erase. A few of the numbers were missing from the dials. The microwave looked new, Harry noticed. It had some strange buttons on it that he didn't recognize. New additions from Mr. Weasley, perhaps? He kept up with the drying as he continued his observations. The sounds of Hermione and Mrs. Weasley were soothing to him. The cupboards were made of a lightly stained oak. They must have been recently refinished. They looked great, but again, there were signs of use. The knobs on a few of them were off center and there were a few unmistakable dents in them. The hinge on the cupboard in the far corner was tilted from being slammed shut too many times.

"Right, Harry?"

Harry jumped a bit and nodded, hoping that being agreeable would get the focus off of him.

Hermione only smiled at him as Molly and Ginny chuckled. "You've been drying the same plate for a few minutes now. Maybe it's time for you to head up to your room," Hermione pointed out.

Harry smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. I guess I got lost in my own thoughts."

He helped finish the last few dishes. Hermione led him up the stairs, chatting away. "I kind of like it here, Harry. It's a nice change of pace."

Harry nodded. "I do too. Everything about it is different though. I feel like we've all known each other for our whole lives, not just a few hours." Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment.

"I feel the same way. I mean, they _are_ very welcoming. How could anyone feel as if they don't belong?"

Harry shrugged. Hermione always made sense. He couldn't argue with her logic. He lifted his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. Maybe he was more tired than he had imagined. At the top of the first flight of stairs, Hermione moved to the left. "Well, I hope you have a good sleep, Harry." She leaned over and hugged him. "Sweet dreams." She disappeared around the stairs as she went to her shared room with Ginny. Harry made his way to his room, which he would share with Ron. Hermione had no idea how wrong she was.

Sleep overcame Harry. He drifted through different stages of consciousness as his mind began to work in its strange ways.

He was crying. The tears poured from his eyes. He stared out at the dark red liquid pooling at the bottom of the stairs. How could he explain this? Why did a situation like this have to be explained? He choked as a fit of sobs took over his body. What could he do? Should he run? Where would he go? He was kneeling at the top of a staircase. His head suddenly felt too heavy for his crouched body to support. He fell forward and slammed his forehead onto the polished wooden floor. He shook. He cried. He screamed. There was a storm raging outside. The walls surrounding him groaned as they swayed with the harsh wind. The sound of leaves smacking the windows rang in his ears. He clutched at the sides of his head, digging his fingernails into his flesh. What had he done? He heard a voice then. Was that his imagination? Was it his conscience? _Help me_. He shook his head. _Help me_. It was louder now. He blinked back the stream of stinging tears. He lifted his head from the floor. He glanced down the stairs. Those eyes were looking at him. Those piercing eyes were burning through his soul. The amount of pain he saw in those depths consumed him.

_Why won't you help me?_

"Harry, wake UP!"

Harry jolted. There was a heavy weight on all of his limbs. He couldn't see straight and his vision blurred around him. Ron was on top of him, pinning him down.

"Harry…"

Harry could feel the sweat trickle down his face. A bead of sweat dripped into his eye. He squeezed them shut, hoping to banish his feelings. He felt like he was going to be sick. He now missed the challenging fights in the forest. He missed the quiet times he would dream of sipping tea while overlooking a garden.

Ron slid off of Harry and stared at him intently, unsure. He looked at Harry as if he was a stranger. Ron's mouth hung open slightly. He swallowed heavily. "You alright now, mate?"

Harry nodded and fumbled on the nightstand to reach his glasses.

"You sure? I mean, if you could have heard the way you shouted… I thought you were getting bloody stabbed!" Ron ran a shaky hand through his shaggy red hair.

Harry rubbed his forehead, trying to clear his head. His heart beat was still overpowering. He could feel the adrenaline burning through his veins, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

"I need to get to the bottom of this." With that, Harry sat up in his bed.

"What do you reckon we should do?" Ron's breathing had slowed a bit.

"I'm not sure yet. We'll talk to Hermione in the morning. We can brainstorm together."

Ron snorted. "She'll just want to haul us both off to the library for a day to do research."

Harry's mouth twitched up into an involuntary smile. "Yeah. I reckon she will."

A/N: Sorry. This is a bit shorter than I would have liked it to be. I have a final tomorrow, and I really should get to studying. This is just my version of an apology for taking longer than I had hoped to update. Hope you enjoy.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Special thanks to my faithful reviewer, Emeralden Rapley!

Tempting Fate

Harry had blissfully dreamless sleep. He had fallen right back into sleep after his episode in the middle of the night. Ron's snores were the only sounds in the room. It was soothing after a while.

_Tink_.

Harry rubbed his sleep encrusted eyes.

_Tink_.

He grabbed his glasses off of the nightstand beside his bed. He kept hearing a faint "tink" noise from outside. The sun was shining through the one window in his shared room. He guessed it to be about 9 or 10 in the morning. Ron was nowhere to be found. Harry slid out of bed, groaning. If Ron wasn't in the room, he must have already gotten up for breakfast. Which means Harry missed it. He couldn't blame them for leaving him asleep in his room. It was one of the few times he wasn't sweating profusely or screaming bloody murder. It was almost worth missing breakfast for. Harry's stomach gave a lurch and grumbled up to him in disagreement. Almost.

_Tink_.

"What is that noise?" Harry asked to no one as he walked down the stairs to the kitchen. He ran a hand through his hair. He could feel the unruly strands sticking up on end. His failed attempt to smooth them down went unnoticed. There was no one to be found in the kitchen. Harry wandered into the sitting room. No one was there either.

_Tink_.

Harry followed the noise to the back door. He found everyone outside gathered in the Weasley's enormous back yard.

"Morning, Harry dear!" Mrs. Weasley was sitting in a chair by the door, watching everyone else. Harry smiled down at her. "What is everyone doing?"

She laughed a bit and pointed out. "Morning baseball. The boys rather enjoy it when everyone is home to play. They are a few short, normally. I am a better referee than a player, I'm afraid." She chuckled a bit as Ron stood up to the plate to bat. Harry watched as they all played together. Hermione was in the left field and Ginny was in the right. Bill was playing catcher behind Ron. Percy was pitching. Harry found that odd. Percy didn't strike him as a sport man. Arthur was in the center field in the back. It seemed like Fred and George split the work of covering all four bases. Percy drew back to pitch. Ron was digging the toe of his sneaker into the dirt. Percy threw a fast ball. Ron swung and missed the first time.

"Come on, Ron!" Harry called from the sideline.

Ron's head shot up. He grinned Harry's way. "Morning, mate!" He waved and then set up to bat again.

Bill tossed the ball back, "Strike one!"

Percy sniffed and gingerly assumed his pitching position. He threw another fast ball Ron's way, but Ron's bat made contact this time. _Tink_. The aluminum bat smashed the ball out into center field. Ron whooped and threw the bat aside. He began running as Mr. Weasley ran to catch the ball. Harry heard the telephone ring from inside of the house. Mrs. Weasley stood and laid a hand on his shoulder. "I'll go get that. You make sure they all play fair while I'm gone." Harry nodded and she disappeared into the kitchen. Harry took her seat and continued to watch them all play. Hermione's face was tinted pink and she was breathing a little heavy. Her brown hair was a tangled mess around her face from the bursts of warm wind that were blowing through. She was laughing. Harry smiled at her, happy that she was finally unwinding and relaxing for once. Harry turned to glance through the window behind the chair he sat in. Mrs. Weasley had a slight frown on her face. Her hands were worrying at a cloth rag that was sitting on the counter as she cradled the phone with her shoulder. She nodded and said a few words Harry couldn't hear.

Hermione let out a sigh as she appeared before Harry. She was breathing heavy. Harry looked away from Mrs. Weasley to smile at her. The worried look in her eyes wiped the smile away from his face. "Ron told me about last night. I think we should go to the library to check up on any literature about dreams we can find."

Harry nodded and glanced back at Mrs. Weasley, but her back was to him now. She had not looked very happy. He was curious as to who called. Hermione grabbed his hand, pulling him up into standing. "The game's about done. As soon as Ron's made it to home base, we should get going."

They had wasted no time. Hermione dragged Harry and Ron to the library as soon as Ron got the OK to borrow his father's car. He didn't have one of his own at home yet.

The three of them approached the imposing building. Harry's stomach was twisting a bit. He now regretted stopping to grab fast food on the way over. He was going to be sick.

They stepped through the doors. Hermione was chatting with Ron about the possibilities of improper chemicals in Harry's brain somewhere to Harry's left. Harry's entire focus was on the back of the person behind the help desk in the right corner of the building. The girl had long, white-blonde hair. It was tied back into a braid that looked like it was made of spun silk by a rather large blue bow. She had pale skin, from what Harry could see of her arms. She had on a bright green cardigan sweater and a clashing pair of yellow striped pants. She was petite and placing books on a cart. Harry willed her to turn around.

She continued placing books on the cart.

Harry gravitated toward her. The features were so like the person in his dreams. He had never seen a face or heard more than a laugh. He only caught glimpses of alabaster skin or silky white gold hair. Harry cleared his throat when he had gotten close.

The girl squeaked and spun around. "Hello! How may I help you?" Her voice was surprised and she had large rimmed glasses on in front of her glassy blue eyes. She spoke softly and smiled warmly. Hermione and Ron, noticing Harry's absence, appeared behind him. "Do you have a section on books about dreams and interpreting them, by any chance?" Hermione inquired.

The girl placed her index finger over her mouth, thinking. "Hmm, we do. If you'll follow me, I can show you."

She didn't really walk, Harry concluded. She simply _glided_ through the library. She began picking books off of shelves, mentioning in hushed tones what they were to Hermione. She finished handing the stack of books over. "My name is Luna. If you have any questions, please feel free to ask me. It gets to be a bit boring here. Books are nice, but they don't make good conversation."

Hermione quirked an eyebrow at her. Harry could see the thoughts behind her eyes. _What a weird girl._ Harry chuckled and thanked Luna.

She smiled at him. He felt a strange tug at his heart. He felt as if he knew this girl.

She began walking back to the help desk, and Harry followed her. "I want to ask her another question," he shot over his shoulder so Hermione wouldn't follow him.

He grabbed Luna's elbow and she spun around, eyes bright, to greet him.

"Oh, did you have a question," she let the last word draw out, asking for a name to address him by.

"Harry," he supplied.

"Harry," she repeated, smiling at him still.

His name sounded good coming out of her mouth. Harry felt that nagging feeling again. "Have we met before?" he blurted before he could think.

She looked as if she seriously considered this. She placed a questioning finger on her mouth again and stared at him intently. He began to feel a bit uncomfortable being the subject of her piercing gaze. "I don't recall. But we have all met one another once before in this life, past lives, or in dreams, right?"

Harry's mouth fell open. Could she read his mind?

She laughed. "The world is always connected. It is always working in mysterious ways. Is that why you wanted to read about dreams?"

Harry raised a questioning eyebrow. What was this girl playing at? He shrugged, not wanting to get into too much detail. He had to assume that she was just an avid reader lost in her own fantasy land rather than an extremely perceptive girl who was in tune with his feelings.

"Perhaps I have offended you. I apologize. Some people do not share my beliefs in how the world works."

"No, no. I'm sorry. I'm being rude. I just wondered if you had any books about castles as well?" Harry changed the subject, avoiding her gaze. Now he was feeling a little violated. His mind was not safe around this girl.

She simply smiled serenely at him. "Of course, follow me."

Hermione, Ron and Harry checked out a few books about dreams and two more about castles, per Harry's request. They all bid Luna a good day and were off to read back at Ron's house. Harry had insisted they not read there. Luna's presence was a little unnerving to Harry. He was drawn to her, but intimidated by the understanding in her blue-green eyes. She was either a total whack job or she was wise beyond her years. She couldn't have been older than him, Harry guessed. She looked to be in her twenties.

They bustled through the front door together. They all welcomed the cool air from the air conditioning. It was getting a little warm outside and the car's air conditioning unit seemed to be malfunctioning. "Dad's probably been messing around with it again," Ron had mentioned.

They all made it into the kitchen and spotted Mrs. Weasley scrubbing something on the oven. "Hullo, Mum," Ron greeted.

She smiled at them, looking distracted. "How was the library?"

Hermione shifted the books in her arms. "It was a pretty successful trip! We were going to go and read the books in Ron's room for a while before dinner."

Mrs. Weasley smiled over her shoulder. "We're having a stew tonight. I've been roasting the beef all day."

Harry then noticed the mouth watering aroma of red meat, spices, and a barbecue sauce rub. "Smells wonderful, Mrs. Weasley."

"Oh, speaking of dinner, dear." She glanced at Ron. "Your cousin will be joining us. He is on his way back from a trip to London. I've prepared Charlie's room for him."

Ron bristled at the mention of his cousin. He plastered a happy face on for his mother. "Sounds great." He then ushered Harry and Hermione out of the kitchen as fast as he could.

"What was that all about?" Harry asked as Ron flung him into his room.

"I don't get along with my cousin."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well that much is obvious, Ron. Why don't you like your cousin?"

"He's a right git! I guess I should feel sympathy for him like my mum does, but he gets under my skin." He paused and rubbed the back of his head. "I guess I should start at the beginning.

His parents died when he was younger. They were bloody filthy rich. They have a manor house about an hour away. They left it to him in their will, but he was too young to run the entire place himself. His parents made a lot of enemies. They were dealing with some shady government things while they were alive. Their own closest relatives wouldn't even take the poor kid in. My mum offered. We are pretty distantly related. She always said, 'You should never persecute a child for a parent's sins'. So, we took him in. He was about 12 when he moved in with us. He is a pompous arse. He always had a comment about our 'outdated technology' or 'our shabby carpet'. He respects my mum. She took care of him and taught him some manners. He's tolerable now."

Harry and Hermione exchanged glances. "Why haven't you mentioned him before? He seems to be a pretty big part of your life," Hermione asked.

Run shrugged. "I don't like talking about him. You'll see why when you meet him. He's not pleasant. He's smart and I've heard he's good looking, but he's obnoxious."

"How did his parents die?" Harry whispered. He already felt as if he had a kindred spirit in this guy. He was almost jealous. His cousin was horrible. He hated his childhood. He wished he had the compassionate Weasleys to take him in when he was alone in the world.

"The papers say they died of an overdose. Like I said though, they had a _lot_ of enemies. It could have been a murder. They could have been set up. Who knows?"

Harry ran a hand through his hair. "Interesting."

They spent the rest of the afternoon flipping through library books. There was one book that caught Harry's eye. It seemed like a crock but he flipped through it. The book was _Remembering your Dreams_ by Craig Hamilton-Parker. He found a few passages that seemed to grab his attention. It was almost creepy how accurate they sounded.

_In most cases it is impossible to prove beyond doubt that a dream relates to a past life experience. How much easier it would be if you could simply dream all the facts then prove them with public records of births, marriages, and deaths. There are certain dreams you are likely to have had that cannot be explained away as symbolism, metaphor, or allegory. In my own dream records I have cases I am convinced are about past lives. For example I had many dreams about being a shaven-headed monk when I was a with other monks, I chanted mantras. The scenery was spectacular. I would awaken feeling tremendously inspired. I have also had recurring dreams about dying of exposure near a dried-up riverbed, which I now believe to be the source of the Yellow River in Mongolia, a place where there were many Tibetan monasteries. Spontaneous recall of past lives may be a rather dubious privilege. Suppose you were now able to have unfettered access to all your past life memories and were to discover that you were one of the worst monsters in history. What if you discovered that you were Genghis Khan, Hitler, or Stalin? Worse, perhaps, you realize you have spent lifetimes as a child abuser or village idiot. How would you feel? How would you deal with the horror and belated remorse? You would probably feel so depressed and discouraged, you would have no strength to keep on._

_Moreover, imagine how much karma your life now and in the future would be subject to. You would have a mountain of misfortune to deal with._

That struck a nerve with Harry. He had been dreaming about a person that he may have murdered. He could have even witnessed a murder and did nothing to help. He continued reading.

_You may ask yourself the question: "What have I done in a past life to deserve this suffering?" But you forget that it was you who chose to take on the life you have today. Perhaps in a past life you were a king, queen, president, or rich person. At the end of your last life you may have decided that seeking fame, power, privilege, or wealth are futile pursuits. Perhaps you enjoyed your status and came to the end of that experience. You learned what you needed to know. The habits you cultivated in past lives have created your physical, mental, and emotional makeup in this life. You also bring forward into this life your past karma which determines the kind of physical form you will have as well as your personality traits. Even your sex is determined by your self-chosen tendencies in previous lives._

_By knowing your past lives, you can gain an understanding of yourself and the traits that are influencing the course of your life. Most people never analyze themselves, so they are continually stuck in a rut of established behavior. They are guided by their likes and dislikes, all of which are habits brought forward from previous lives._

_The objective of a self-aware person is to be in control and not to be at the mercy of his own tendencies._

Harry rubbed his forehead in response to the passage. Maybe it was right. He forced the thought out of his mind. He was who he was. He didn't care to feel like he was just a physical representation of another life. He was his own person. He was shaped by his own life choices and his own experiences. He couldn't handle doubting how much of his personality was determined by his life or past lives. It was all a bit much. He sighed and shut the book. He couldn't read any more. His head was beginning to ache.

Hermione scooped up a book and went to read by herself. She said she may have other books to cross-reference with. Ron yawned. "Glad she's gone. I was getting tired of pretending to read there for a while."

Harry laughed and laid back onto the ground.

"Do you think there's really something wrong with me?"

Ron sighed. "I don't think so, mate. Don't let it all get to you. You are who you are. You can't change. No use thinking about it on an empty stomach either. I'm starved. Let's go check on that stew."

Harry laughed and sat up to follow Ron. His stomach grumbled in response to his words. They had been reading longer than he thought. It was time to let doubts of control go. He was the one controlling his thoughts and actions. He was the captain of his own ship. He could handle this. His thoughts came to an abrupt halt as he stepped down the last stair. He looked up to see a man he didn't recognize sitting at the kitchen table chatting with Mrs. Weasley. He was dressed impeccably. He had on a tailored grey button up shirt with black dress slacks on. His blonde hair was combed back behind his ears. He was laughing about something Molly had said. He noticed Harry and Ron step down the stairs and froze. His eyes bore into Harry for a moment before turning to Ron.

"Well, hello, dear cousin. I have missed your disheveled appearance in my absence."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Harry, meet Draco Malfoy. My cousin from the underworld."

A/N: Read and review! I am dying to know how you all feel about it. I have had a few favorite and story alert additions, but no one leaves any comments. Hope you enjoyed this chapter! More to come soon.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: First, so, just a warning, there will be a little citrus action in this chapter. All those underage, cover your eyes! If you don't like, don't read. Just a heads up! Second, sorry this took forever :( Having a break is even more busy than being in school. Third, special thanks to my new beta, Hinjintetsusou! Hope you enjoy.

Tempting Fate

Draco sniffed and glared at Ron, "Such bold words, Weasel."

Ron stiffened and advanced toward Draco. "I told you to stop calling me that," he roared. Harry stared at Draco, taking everything in. He had stormy gray eyes. His white-blonde hair seemed to glow golden orange in the evening sun streaming through the windows. His pale face was pointed and smirking at Ron at the moment. He had long, pale fingers that wrapped around his white tea cup as he took a slow sip. The way his eyes glittered and the upturn of his thin lips led Harry to believe that the hatred Ron thought they shared was not mutual. Ron was the only one with hard feelings. Draco just looked like he was having a good time ruffling Ron's feathers.

While Ron continued sputtering, Draco turned his gaze to Harry, "It is very nice to meet you, Harry."

Harry cocked his head to the right slightly. Draco was staring at him intensely. He felt oddly violated and uncomfortable under that gaze. "Nice to meet you, too," he mumbled back.

"The stew is almost ready. You boys should go wash up for supper," Mrs. Weasley urged. Everyone felt the odd tension that had settled in the room. Ron was still fuming. He grumbled and marched back upstairs. Harry turned and followed him, glad to escape. He heard Draco start up conversation with Molly again, but the voices faded as he and Ron continued up the stairs.

Dinner was uneventful. With the way Ron described Draco, Harry was prepared for the worst. He was pleasantly surprised at how smoothly everything went. Draco was a perfect dinner guest. He asked Mr. Weasley about his inventions. He also complimented Hermione on her ambitions with law school. He ate everything slowly and never spoke with his mouth full. Harry was starting to think Ron was delusional. Maybe Draco had done something to him in the past that was irreparable. Harry tried to be subtle about observing Draco, but every now and then his stormy gray eyes would glance up and capture emerald green. Harry would flush and shove food into his mouth before looking at something inconspicuous.

Dinner soon came to a close. Draco brushed at the corners of his mouth with a napkin before excusing himself. He kissed Molly on the cheek and informed her that he would be going to the manor tonight to oversee cleaning and upkeep. Molly frowned a bit.

"You're going to drive over so late at night?" she questioned softly, worried. He chuckled at her concern.

"Yes, I should take care of this as soon as possible. I will also be back as soon as possible," he waved to everyone before making his way to the door. Harry heard a car engine roar to life and fade away into the distance. He felt that strange twisting in his stomach fade with the noises of the engine.

Harry sighed and picked up his plate to help clean up.

The rest of the night seemed calm and relaxed. Hermione and Ron had taken an evening walk together. They probably headed out to the garden to sneak some alone time before wandering away to plot Harry's intervention. They hadn't really done much about his dreams since they had arrived. Sure, they read a few books, but everything seemed to be going by smoothly. He sat down on the couch next to Fred and George as they fiddled with something. He heard a sputtering sound coming from under the cushion and sighed as the twins roared into laughter. He pulled the whoopie cushion out from under him and handed it back to the twins.

"That one was a little lame, boys," Harry shook his head. They just continued to laugh at his misfortune.

"That is always a classic..." Fred started.

"It really never gets old," George finished.

"You should have seen your face," Fred laughed.

Harry ran a hand through his hair and laughed with them. "So what are you two working on anyway," he asked as he tried to peek over Fred's shoulder.

Fred whipped a long cord with an attached ear piece and what appeared to be a microphone on the other end. "Our latest spying invention. Its small cord and microphone make it a prime candidate for sliding under doors and into cracks..." he began.

"Not only does it have amazing voice recognition, but it also has a background noise filter," George continued.

Harry nodded in approval, "Clever."

The twins smiled at each other, satisfied. "We have been working part time at a few jobs around here until we can save up enough money..." George began, smiling.

"We are going to open up our own joke shop eventually. It will have pranks from wall to wall," Fred concluded.

"Where do you work now?" Harry had forgotten that he had planned to get a part time job here for the summer as well.

"Right now we are working at the local bar. We are quite the attraction," Fred beamed.

"Quite entertaining, I guarantee," George agreed.

"I have been meaning to get a job while I am here. Would you two mind helping me out? Since you seem to be quite the specialists," Harry added the last bit for good measure.

"Never fear, good sir. We will begin our quest as soon as possible!" George proclaimed.

"There may even be a job opening at the bar. Especially if George doesn't get his act together," Fred smirked at his brother teasingly.

"I believe it is you who is slacking, dear brother," George defended.

Harry laughed and thanked them for offering their help. He would need it. He bid them goodnight before heading upstairs to see if Ron and Hermione had made it back yet.

He found Hermione in her room with Ginny. Her cheeks were flushed. It must have been an exciting walk. She smiled brightly at Harry when he knocked and entered the room. "Hey, Harry," she said breathily.

He waved back at her, smiling. "Hey, 'Mione," he began. "What are you guys up to?"

"Hermione was asking about train tickets. She wants to go and check out some castles tomorrow," Ginny announced.

"Unless you had other plans, of course," Hermione added. "We can always go another day."

Harry laughed, "What would I have planned tomorrow? More cleaning?" He grimaced as he thought about Molly putting him to work. His hands were still wrinkly and white from doing everyone's dishes earlier. Hermione and Ginny giggled.

"So it's decided then. We will go and see castles tomorrow. See you in the morning, Hermione," Harry nodded to Hermione. "Night, Gin," Harry turned and closed the door behind him, heading to Ron's room. Ron was nowhere to be found. Harry shrugged. He must be taking a shower, or something. Harry grabbed one of Ron's magazines off of the shelf in the corner of the room. He flung himself onto his bed and began flipping through the pages. As the words began to blur together, he glanced at the clock. When had it gotten so late? The digital numbers glowed, telling Harry it was 11:03 PM.

Harry rubbed at his eyes underneath of his glasses, pinching his nose a bit. He tossed the magazine on the nightstand and got up to change into more comfortable sleeping clothes. He could always take a shower in the morning. He stripped to his boxers and threw his dirty clothes into the hamper to be washed. He grabbed a plain white cotton t-shirt out of the dresser he shared with Ron and pulled it over his head, making his hair stick up every which way with static. He sighed and ran a hand through the untidy locks. He climbed into bed after placing his glasses on the night stand. It took a while to get comfortable. Harry's last thought before sleep took him was a wish for a dreamless night's sleep.

It was dark. His feet were bare. He felt the chills run up his spine from the chilled stone floor. He shivered, shifting from one foot to the other, seeking warmth. His eyes scanned the dark room, searching. Pale arms snaked out from behind him. Harry jumped at the sudden contact. Someone shushed him from behind, rubbing a soothing circle over his chest. Lips brushed against the back of his neck. He relaxed. He practically melted into the embrace. He felt oddly safe. One of the pale hands ran down the length of his cotton covered stomach before sneaking underneath of his shirt. Harry purred when the soft hands traced his navel. Kisses were steadily trailed along his shoulders through his shirt. Harry squirmed, seeking more skin to skin contact. His dream companion chuckled very softly from behind him.

Harry's shirt was tugged over his head and shoulders before being thrown across the room. He attempted to twist in the embrace to face his captor. Arms tightened around his waist. A head shook against his back and he shivered as fine hairs tickled a sensitive spot on his spine. Apparently facing each other was not an option. Possessive hands trailed from his waistband up to his nipples. A feather light touch brushed over his sensitive skin and Harry let out a soft moan. This pace was tortuously slow. Soft lips kissed down his left arm and back up. The motion was then repeated over his right arm. Fingers continued to toy with his sensitive nipples. Teeth dug into the crook in his shoulder and Harry sighed in pleasure. One of the pale hands ventured back down his stomach. He shivered in anticipation as deft fingers toyed with his waistband.

Harry heard his captor and tormentor breathe out a sigh. Harry shivered as the breath caressed his back, making his hairs stand on end. His boxer shorts were slowly pushed down to reveal how excited Harry was to be touched like this. It revealed how much need and want Harry felt. Harry shivered again, realizing how strong these feelings were. He couldn't begin to describe the depth of the lust he felt. He felt happy. He felt wanted. He felt at home. Soft hands ran halfway down his thighs and back up to his hip bones, tracing lazy patterns. Harry relished in the feeling. He was about to burst from touches alone, but wanted to savor this feeling. He imagined his dream companion felt the same. There were no words exchanged. No words were necessary. The pace was slow. Both heated bodies moved deliberately. Harry wanted to treasure this moment. He didn't know when it would come again. The hands on his body began to move purposefully. They approached his aching erection and finally took a firm grasp. Harry sucked in a breath through his teeth and let his head fall back against his partner's shoulder.

Harry shot up in bed, panting. "Shit," he cursed. Of course his dream would end there. Even when he was enjoying himself, his dreams were as torturous as ever. He threw off his blankets forcefully and grabbed his glasses. 5:57 AM was screaming at him angrily from the glowing clock. He stormed out of the room past Ron's sleeping form to take a very cold shower.

Harry wasn't able to fall back asleep after his shower. He rubbed his eyes and made his way to the front of the house, hoping to snag the morning paper to look through job ads. He sat down at the kitchen table to read. He flipped through the comics section before making his way to the help wanted area. Hermione walked down the stairs and greeted him.

"I think we should get an early start today. I'm glad you're already up. Now I just have to force Ron out of bed," she laughed a bit before pouring herself some coffee. Mrs. Weasley also entered the room, carrying a basket of laundry.

"Did you want some help with that, Mrs. Weasley?" Hermione offered.

"Oh, call me Molly, dear. How many times do I have to tell you?" she laughed as Hermione nodded. "Good morning, Harry. Sleep well?" she glanced up at Harry.

Harry shrugged and nodded, noncommittally. He set the paper down to pour himself a cup of coffee. Molly smiled at him before heading to the living room with Hermione in tow.

Harry slumped back into his chair at the kitchen table and sipped his coffee, thinking about his dream. The paper lay forgotten. The dream had been different than normal. He had never had any dreams of a sexual nature. Harry didn't even have much to base it off of. He had a few flings back in high school and had tried dating before. Although, he had never felt that rush or the lust he felt in his dream last night. He sighed and shook his head. The universe had a sick and twisted way of torturing him, he thought. Stupid dreams. Stupid brain. The door to his left creaked open and Harry jumped.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," Draco apologized from the doorway. He made no move to enter the room. His expression was wary. Harry took a moment to register what was going on before smiling and waving it off.

"It's alright. It's probably my own fault for daydreaming," Harry laughed it off.

Draco didn't move. He shifted to his other foot, looking uncomfortable. Harry wondered if he smelled bad. Well he couldn't smell bad. He had showered an hour or two ago. Maybe he looked like a sleep deprived zombie. That could scare people away. Harry cleared his throat, which suddenly felt thick.

"Did you need something?" He tried to make Draco feel more comfortable by smiling. The room was filled with awkward tension.

Draco seemed to snap out of his daze. He also cleared his throat and brushed back a stray strand of hair. "Is Molly around?"

Harry pointed to the other room, silently. It was probably better to just drop the struggling conversation. Maybe Harry had offended him in some way. Maybe Draco just didn't like Harry because he was friends with Ron. Harry mentally shrugged. He had other things to think about now. His dream would be a nice place to start. He felt a little rush of desire slice through him and he laughed out loud. Maybe that wasn't such a good idea. Harry ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up even more. It was probably better to think of neutral things. Castle adventuring should be fun. He should probably wear proper walking shoes. Harry set his cooled coffee down before making his way upstairs to wake Ron up. If he was getting dragged around, he wasn't going with Hermione alone.

R&R


End file.
